


Pink and Silver

by AJ_Lenoire



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Love Confessions, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Psychic Bond, Romantic Friendship, Sort Of, but they’re so background it feels like cheating to tag them, there are other characters and relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJ_Lenoire/pseuds/AJ_Lenoire
Summary: As result of carrying his soul in her body, Allura and Shiro can share each other's thoughts and emotions. This psychic bond they now share breaches a new level into their relationship, and they're both a little unsure of what that means. After spending so long on the astral plane without a physical form, Shiro finds himself having to readjust to his position as the Black Paladin, the Head of Voltron, Allura's second-in-command and, just maybe, her romantic partner, too.All they know for sure is that they care deeply for one another, and though they've always been close, they've always been professional, too. How will they make that transition?[or, I'm in love with theAnd Then They Fucked In The Black Liontrope and have no self-control]





	Pink and Silver

**Author's Note:**

> Behold, a sequel to something I told myself would be a one off ficlet! (I think I'm incapable of that anymore - which is a damn shame because something you gotta know when to quit, y'know?) Anyway, enjoy this as my contribution for Shallura Week 2018! 
> 
> I'm sorry this is so late!! I started off Shallura Week by spilling lemonade over my small laptop -_- but luckily my big one, once booted up, isn't too sluggish, so this comes to you from a 7-year-old Pavilion g6.
> 
> Not... _necessary_ but if you want some more Fluff/Angst/Lovey-Dovey shite may I direct your attention to the prequel to this sequel _Return of the Black Paladin_ which can be found here: **https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943018**

He pushed the little button as Pidge had instructed, and a soft blue light came on. He couldn’t help but think, _of course it’s blue. Everything Altean is blue_.

Adjusting its position on the ledge, he moved back and sat on his bed. Resting his elbows on his knees, he bowed his head, not looking at it. He swallowed, then looked up, and cocked a small, nervous smile.

“Hi,” he said gently, “Um… It’s me. But, uh, I guess that’s obvious… I changed my hair! But… that’s obvious, too…” He paused, “Sorry… I know I’m probably the last person you want to see. I just… I wanted to let you know I’m still alive, despite what… everyone’s probably been saying.” He clenched and unclenched his fists nervously. “I know. I’m surprised, too.” He paused, “Am I… am I allowed to joke about that? It was always kind of a sore subject…” He coughed into his fist and cleared his throat.

“I wanted to talk…” he began, “I wanted to talk to _you_ , even if I have to do it through a video message. But everything’s been such a mess lately, I wanted to talk to you because.... I always could, and… believe it or not, things were simpler back then.” He gave a soft chuckle, “Crazy, right? But it’s the truth. And everyone here has so much on their plate, and I’m meant to be strong for them… There’s only really one person here who I can talk to like I can talk to you, but she… She’s got her own stuff to deal with. And I feel… not quite right around her. I don’t know why. And you… you always had time to listen. I…” he swallowed, tears blurring his vision.

“I remember that much, at least…” he muttered.

He looked up at that soft blue light. “But there’s so many things I… that I can’t. Was that part of… _it?_ I’m not sure anymore. And… when I was captured… I’m sure Sam’ll have told you about that… I was sure that whatever those creatures did to me _fixed_ it. But there’s so many things I can’t remember anymore…” His tone became fretful and wobbling, and he put his head in his hands, as if physically trying to hold the memories in.

“My… my _okāsan_ ’s face. Her voice. _Your_ voice. I can picture you, but… it’s like a photo. Static. Things we actually  _did_ are… hazy. I... I can’t remember what you used to call me. Sometimes I can’t remember what I used to call _you_. Did I have a name for you? I’m not sure anymore…” He looked at that little blue light again, desperate,

“I don’t know if this is normal,” he murmured, “Is it? Are headaches? And…” he faltered, gritting his teeth, breathing sharply and shallowly and clutching his head as a wave of pain drummed through his skull.

 _Bring him to me_.

“… I’m pretty sure I’m not meant to hear voices…” he whispered, horrified.

He tipped his head up, “I thought…” His throat was suddenly very dry. “I thought talking to you would make me feel like myself. Because everyone here… it feels _wrong_ when I’m around them. _I_ feel wrong.” He swallowed, “I’m sorry. I won’t… This was a stupid idea.” He stood up abruptly, suddenly angry with himself, and marched across the room to grab the small camera. He thumbed a few buttons and a serene female voice announced,

“ _Video deleted_.”

* * *

“How does it feel?”

Shiro looked down at his new right arm and flexed the fingers experimentally, watching as the metal obeyed his command as fluidly as if they were the flesh he’d been born with. Unlike the Galra arm—gunmetal grey and dull silver and glowing purple-pink—it was predominantly white, the panels sleek and smooth, a few lights connected to the power core glowing Altean blue. It was lighter than the old arm had been, he reflected, but he’d gone so long without a physical form it almost wasn’t noticeable. He doubted adjusting to the new arm would be any more difficult than adjusting to his new body had been overall.

This new body, as he’d explained to Matt and Sam, that felt stronger than his old one. Even though he’d still been ‘mission acceptable’, he’d clearly already been experiencing some symptoms. He felt healthier, tougher, more invigorated—simply _better_. According to the numerous measurements Allura and Pidge had been keeping track of during his time spent unconscious, there were no genetic abnormalities suggesting the Galra had enhanced or experimented on him, aside from his arm. Which meant that he didn’t feel this way because he was genetically modified, they’d just cured him of his illness.

This was what it felt like to be _healthy_.

As he clenched and unclenched his fingers, Pidge, Hunk, Matt and Rynar looked at him expectantly. Pidge was practically vibrating with excitement, eager to know what Shiro thought of their new innovation. The best of Altean tech combined with the neural interface of Olkari, painstakingly wired into a new connection module bonded onto the stump of his arm. _That_ had hurt, their grafting it onto what remained of his right arm, making sure all the nerves were in place. After whatever the Galra had done to this body, this close of his, he had much less arm than before, and his new prosthetic covered his entire arm and even some of his shoulder so as to properly anchor, whereas before—when he’d only been missing his arm below the elbow—the anchor had only covered to his mid-bicep.

“Well?” Pidge prompted, wide-eyed. Shiro paused a moment longer,

“It’s nice,” he remarked, raising it, twisting the wrist and flexing the elbow, “I like it.” He looked up at her and offered a grin. She grinned right back,

“Great!” she chirped. Hunk tapped her shoulder,

“Can we show him?” he asked. Shiro blinked,

“Show me what?” He looked between the two other Paladins expectantly. They turned a pair of truly terrifying grins on him,

“Okay,” Pidge said, “Raise your arm like this.” She clenched her right fist and raised her arm so her fist was level with her left cheek. Shiro copied the gesture, “Now throw it out so its by your side and your fingers are straight.” Shiro obeyed, and to his surprise—and Hunk’s glee—the arm lit up, glowing electric blue. He stared, enthralled, at his now-luminous fingers, wiggling them experimentally.

“You weaponised it,” he said, in a tone that suggested he actually wasn’t surprised. Though to be fair, what else should he have expected from ‘Team Punk’?

“Uh-huh!” Pidge grinned, Hunk nodding along eagerly, “It’ll super-heat materials and slice through things just like the first one did—”

“—only its _way_ more efficient!” Matt added excitedly,

“Nice,” Shiro admitted, “But, uh… how do I… turn it off?”

“What?” Pidge blinked, then, “ _Oh_. Right. Put your arm out like when you powered it up—” He did. “—Now pull it up so your fist it level with your shoulder.” He did, and the glow died down. He smiled at his trio of engineers.

“Does it suit you, Shiro?” Rynar asked in her calm, interested tones. He nodded,

“It does,” he replied, “It’s… great. Seriously, thank you so much.”

“It was the least I could do for the man who helped liberate my planet,” Rynar told him with a smile, “Truly, it was my pleasure.”

“Well, you guys did a great job,” he said, moving the arm around again, rolling his shoulder to abate the stiffness of the muscles. “I kind of missed having a right hand.”

Matt sniggered, as did Pidge. Hunk went red and elbowed her semi-subtly. Shiro resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead got to his feet,

“Right,” he said, “If you lot will excuse me, I have some work to get to.”

“Actually, you might want to just rest for now,” Pidge said,

“Yeah, you’re still recovering,” Matt added with a slight frown,

“You didn’t have a body for nearly a year,” Hunk agreed,

“Which is why I’m eager to be moving around and doing stuff,” Shiro countered, “Don’t worry, guys, I’ll be sure not to exert myself.”

Though concerned, the four of them seemed relatively content to let him leave, and instead focussed their attention of building a new Castle of Lions. The plans were still on earth with Sam Holt, but between them, Matt, Pidge and Hunk had a working knowledge of some of its systems, and had started to develop prototypes.

But, as soon as he was out of the lab, Matt was running to catch up with him, “Hey, Shiro…” he said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder—left shoulder. “Can I… can we talk for a minute?”

Shiro blinked, “Sure,” he replied, “Why?”

Matt dropped his gaze and bounced on his feet; nervous. In the four years since they’d first left for the Kerberos mission, his hair had grown quite a bit, and he’d swept it back into a low ponytail. This also meant that when he ducked his head—as he was doing now—Shiro couldn’t see his face. Not that he’d ever been able to, anyway—Matt was several inches shorter than him.

“I, uh… radioed Earth,” he said slowly, “When you guys all got here—told my parents that Katie’s okay, that you’re okay and that…”

“Alright…” Shiro said slowly, “…and?”

“And… I asked to speak with Adam,” Matt continued, closing his eyes and grimacing as though he was pained. Shiro blanched slightly.

“O-oh?” he asked, trying—and failing—to appear nonchalant, “How… how’s he doing?”

“He’s…” Matt began, then faltered. He swallowed, “He’s… um… god, Shiro, I don’t know how to say this…”

His blood ran cold, “Oh my god, Matt,” he gaped, “He’s not—”

“No!” Matt said quickly, “No— _god_ , no! He’s—he’s fine. Bet—better than fine, actually. He, um… he’s engaged. …again.”

Shiro blinked several times, “Oh,” he said flatly, “Okay. …um… _cool_. Alright.” He swallowed, “Good—good for him.”

Matt scrutinised him, “You’re… okay?” he asked carefully, “With… with this, I mean?”

Surprising even himself a little, Shiro nodded, “I am,” he said, “I mean… we broke up four years ago. He thought I was dead for most of that time. He deserves to be happy.”

Matt stared, “That’s… very understanding of you,” he remarked blankly. A pause, then he smirked, “I see that time in the Astral Plane made you even more an insufferable fount of wisdom,” he added dryly. Shiro smirked at him,

“I mean it,” he said, “He deserves it, and I don’t want him back—really. I mean…” he paused, “I’ll always love him. No denying that, I don’t even want to. But we weren’t… we weren’t _meant_ for each other, y’know? I chose space exploration over him, and I know that if I went back I’d choose being a Paladin over him, too. I’m glad he’s moved on. I’m glad he’s happy.”

“You sure?” Matt asked, offering a warm smile, which Shiro returned,

“I’m sure,” he promised, “But… thanks for letting me know—and hey, next time you radio, let me know. I owe him a congratulations.”

The two men shared a laugh, patted each other good-naturedly on the shoulders, and then Matt ducked back into the tech lab, and Shiro headed down the hallway.

He hadn’t sat in the Black Lion since the day he’d died—and he didn’t really count his time as a spirit inside of her, because he hadn’t been piloting, only helping guide whomever sat in her cockpit. First Keith, and then his clone body.

The group at large had taken to calling him ‘Kuron’—a play on his own name. ‘Shiro’ meant ‘white’. ‘Kuro’ meant ‘Black’. Add an ‘n’, and it sounded a little like ‘clone’. He’d expected nothing less from the combined humours of Pidge and Lance. But he liked it; it brought a bit of much-needed levity to what they’d all been through.

Either way, it had been a long time since he’d piloted the Black Lion. He knew their bond was strong as ever—she’d saved him, kept his soul tethered to her for almost a year.

 _A true Paladin bond if there ever was one_ , came a voice in his mind. A smile touched his lips. This strange link he had with Allura, it seemed two days had not been enough for it to fade. It was weaker with distance—the fact that she could sense his thoughts and talk to him in his mind meant she must’ve returned from her meeting with the rest of the Voltron Coalition leaders.

_How’d the meeting go?_

_Well enough. I’m glad it’s over, though. With everything that’s happened, I could use a break. And after all our space-battles, I’m afraid politics is rather dull in comparison._

_A necessary evil?_

A sound like a tinkling bell, which he now knew to be her laughter, echoed in his head, and a feeling of warmth and amusement spread from the centre of his chest.

_I’m going to the Lions’ hangar, if you’d like to join me—talk out loud._

_Ah, but this is much more fun._

Her thoughts had a note of teasing to them and—probably accidentally, judging by the echo of embarrassment that shot through him afterwards—she added,

 _And intimate_.

He chuckled. The pair of them hadn’t _quite_ gotten the hang of this bond yet, and still accidental thoughts crept across. It _was_ more intimate than straight talking, because it was whole thoughts and emotions that were conveyed, not a string of words, one-after-the-other like with speech or text. The thoughts simply arrived, whole and perfect, inside their heads. Proximity also made filtering out the more risqué thoughts a little more difficult, a challenge neither of them had fully overcome.

It also made more apparent the feel of her thoughts in his mind. They were smooth and cool, round and gentle, and gave the impression of slipping into comfortable clothes and sipping a cold drink by the sea. Utterly divine and perfect—like her.

By contrast, Shiro’s thoughts in Allura’s head were warm and comforting, soft and calm. If she were an Earthling, she would’ve likened them to snuggling under a quilted blanket by a roaring fire. But they gave her a sense of safety and belonging, just like Shiro’s physical presence.

By the time Shiro arrived in the Lions’ hangar, constructed under the Coalition Headquarters the Olkari had built shortly after being liberated, Allura was already there, standing in front of the Black Lion. She almost looked like she was having a conversation with it.

 _You saved him_.

Her thought had a tone of awe and reverence as she spoke very clearly to the Lion rather than its Pilot. He considered trying not to think anything too strong in her direction, curious what she would ‘say’ next. Was that spying? But no, he felt—like the corners of mouth curling up in a smile—amusement curl into his mind, swirls of happiness.

 _So did you_ , he replied, _without you, I’d still be trapped inside of her._

 _But she did save you_ , Allura repeated, turning to face him, a serene smile on her face. She looked like a goddess, he thought. A literal goddess. And with her incredible skill with Altean alchemy, her talent for diplomacy, her composure as a royal, he was almost surprised she wasn’t.

By her blush, the slight glow of her cheek markings, he realised she’d heard those thoughts—not that he regretted it in any way. He would never regret telling her how incredible she was.

“High praise,” she remarked, their first spoken words to each other.

“More than earned,” he replied, smiling. “And I meant it. You found me. You saved me.”

“You’ve saved me several times,” she pointed out, and he chuckled,

“We’ve rescued each other so often, I’ve lost count,” he said, “Why don’t we just call it even?”

Her smile grew, and he stepped forwards, closing most of the space between them. She sensed hesitation as he moved, not quite asking _is this alright? Can I do this?_ But clearly thinking that—simply embarrassed to ask.

“I know…” he said slowly, as she stepped forwards. He swallowed. “I know Lotor took advantage of you—your trust. I don’t want to pressure you, or—or go too fast. I’m happy to take things slow—”

“Takashi,” she said softly, cutting him off in one of the best ways possible—he adored the sound of his name on her lips, “If I’ve learned anything in the past two decaphoebs, its that you can go _too_ slow.” He’d died, they’d fought a war, almost been destroyed and killed a hundred times over. “Everything has been so fast, I… I’m tired of taking things slow.”

A hopeful smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

 _Please_.

She hated how desperate and needy she sounded, but she loved the result. It was almost with relief that Shiro sighed, cupping her face with his flesh hand and kissing her.

It was deep and sure, and they fit against each other so perfectly. It was only now that he felt her in his embrace that he realised he’d craved her touch, her thoughts, her very _presence_ since he’d woken up in her chambers that morning and found himself alone in her plush bed, with an apology note left on her pillow. He’d sent a sense of greeting through his mind, testing the link that was still very strong.

Altean kissing, he’d quickly learned, was a great deal like human kissing—or maybe that was just Allura. She responded eagerly, twining her arms around his neck and pulling him in close. He didn’t know if it was her magical capabilities or just her Altean physiology, but tiny sparks, so small they were ticklish rather than painful, fizzled where she kissed him.

When they pulled away, they shared a sheepish giggle, still not quite used to this new dynamic of theirs—but then, what _was_ this new dynamic?

 _I’m not sure_ , Allura admitted, _But… I like it._

_I like it, too._

There was a pause, then, _what would you call this on Earth? How do Earthlings court?_

_Well… ‘court’ is kind of outdated, we say… dating. We go on dates._

_Dates?_

_Like… outings. But just with your partner. Like a dinner, or an activity._

_Are we ‘dating’ then? Or does defeating an evil empire not count as an activity?_ Her mind had a burst of teasing to it, and he laughed. She loved his laugh, she decided. Heard far too rarely, it was rich and deep and so warm—like his thoughts in her head, they made her feel safe and at home.

 _Well… I guess you could just say ‘in a relationship’, or… ‘romantically involved’_.

_I like that. It sounds… sweet. Like you._

He grinned, _you’re sweeter_. Like cotton candy. At the thought of that, he lit up. _Oh, I can’t wait to show you cotton candy when we go to Earth._

A pause. _I can’t wait to show you a lot of things, actually._

She smiled at him, her arms still around his neck, but now they moved to slide over his shoulders, down his arms, and around his waist. His were still resting on her hips. “Maybe…” she said aloud, “You could show me some of these things on a ‘date’.”

Shiro flashed her a lopsided grin, one that made him look mischievous and cheeky. “I’d like that.”

 _I’d_ really _like that._

His mind immediately considered what might be a _good_ date—a first date, at least. Maybe to put her at ease, not something that would require a lot of explanation, so not anything sports-related, like watching a baseball game or going bowling. A movie, perhaps? Quite sedentary, and she didn’t know anything about Earth pop-culture—did Alteans even _have_ movies? Maybe an outing to a museum—Earth history, maybe?

Something shot through him, dull and slightly guilty. Allura felt it, he could tell. And she turned to him with a concerned expression.

“Who’s Adam?” she asked, and he flinched slightly. They were standing so close to each other than peripheral thoughts in his head could slip across their link, so, when a memory of their first date wandered, unbidden, through his mind, coupling with what Matt had told him earlier, he couldn’t help if some of it got away from him.

“He was my…” Shiro began, then stopped, “Before… before I went to Kerberos…” He swallowed, weighing the intimacy of showing her the memories against the difficulty of articulating the right words.

Allura caught his grimace, and the cold bolt of fear that shot through her as clearly as if it were her own. Frowning, she bit her bottom lip, “If you…” she began, “If you don’t want to talk about it…”

“No,” he said gently, “No, it’s nothing I’m ashamed of, and certainly not something I’d be embarrassed to tell _you_. …I… I _think_ …” His frown deepened. She squeezed her arms around him a little tighter, a gesture of reassurance and comfort.

“Shiro,” she told him softly, her gaze deep and soulful as she gazed up at him. Her eyes really were the most stunning shade of blue—and she must’ve heard that, he realised, because she flushed as she said, “You know you can tell me anything.”

He smiled, tilting his head so their foreheads touched, and he allowed his eyes to slip closed a moment. “I know,” he promised her. And he _did_ know. And he _could_ tell her.

So, he showed her.

Like the previous night, images flashed through her mind. A young man, Shiro’s age, but with darker skin and glasses. He had a sweet look to him, and in Shiro’s perspective he was wonderful and incredible and she felt love blossom in her chest, deep and pure. Interlinked fingers, soft lips and softer skin, comfort and pleasure.

Illness, danger and stubbornness.

Doubt. _Maybe you shouldn’t go on the mission. You’ll only be putting yourself at risk._

Indignation. _You know how important this is to me. It’s worth the risk_

Anger. _Takashi, how important am_ I _to you? Every mission, every drill, I’ve been right there with you. But is this more than a mission. This is your_ life _at stake._

Frustration. _Don’t start that again, Adam. You don’t have to protect me. This is something I need to do for myself._

Incredulity. _There’s nothing left for you to prove. You’ve broken every record there is to break. I know I can’t stop you, but I won’t go through this again. So if you decide to go… don’t expect me to be here when you get back._

Differences of opinion and ultimatums.

Heartbreak.

Tears were stinging in Allura’s eyes when the memory faded. She gazed up at Shiro, his dark eyes normally impassive, strong and sure for the sake of the other Paladins, who looked up to him as a leader, a big brother, practically a father. “I…” She was at a loss for words, “I’m so sorry,” she said in a small voice, “To lose someone you love… in _any_ way…”

“It’s alright,” he told her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Maybe in one of those alternate realities Slav’s constantly going on about, circumstances would’ve let us work. But in this one… I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

 _If I’m honest… I’m okay with that. Because it meant I got to meet_ you _._

Allura stared at him, “You… what?” she asked blankly, “But… you were betrothed to him. You’d given him your heart!”

“And then he gave it back,” Shiro shrugged, “And I gave back his. Matt actually told me this morning, he… he’s engaged again. Moved on. And I’m happy for him. He’s given his heart to someone new, and I’m okay with that.” His thoughts, the slightly melancholic pride and happiness, proved to her he was telling the truth, “I loved him—still do, really, but… I love you, too.”

There, he’d said it.

It was a wonder Allura’s eyes didn’t fall out of her head, “You… you do?”

He chuckled, but the blush crept across his cheeks all the same, such a deep pinkish red his scar was almost invisible. “I thought it was obvious…” he murmured, “Keith certainly did. And Pidge. Hunk probably did, too, but I never asked him…” His voice faded into the background as Allura noticed something strange in his thoughts. There was something in his mind he was trying to hide, she noticed. Expectation, almost. A slight hurt? What?

_Oh!_

“I love you, too, Takashi,” she said, cutting him off. Slight embarrassment burned in her as she realised she’d forgotten to say it back, but from the way he stared at her... surely, he hadn’t _actually_ thought she might not say it? That she didn’t care for him as deeply and fervently as he cared for her? But, from his expression, and the shock fizzing through his mind, he apparently _had_.

“You… _love_ … me?” he echoed dumbly. She nodded bashfully,

“I do,” she said. They had, probably, on some level, realised this about each other the other night, but it was another thing to confess this, aloud, with words, for all the world to hear. “Why wouldn’t I? You’ve been through so much, but you’re still strong and kind and hopeful. You want to help everyone so badly, you still have so much thirst for life and adventure. You have a good heart. Why wouldn’t I?” she asked again.

Shiro had turned very, very red. She rather liked that colour on him, she noted.

 _I bet I can make him turn that shade in other ways_ , a cheeky part of her thought, an even cheekier part somehow letting it slip across their bond. She flushed, too, then, and he grinned at her, almost lecherously.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked.

She felt something else in his mind, then. A flash of purple. But it was so familiar, it only took her a moment to realise it was the Black Lion. She herself was linked to the Lion’s quintessence, thanks to her father, but obviously that wasn’t nearly as intimate a bond as a Lion to their Paladin. Even the ‘switch up’ with herself bonding to the Blue Lion hadn’t been as profound as Lance’s bond.

But she recognised it well enough, and she recognised it in Shiro, when he was a little more daring. He seemed to realise this slight change, too, because he immediately relented, and turned red again.

“Uh… sorry about that…” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced at the Lion, “When I’m near her, she… I dunno, she doesn’t _do_ anything, really, she just…”

“Brings out a different side of you?” Allura suggested, feeling his thoughts and their sentiment as he struggled to find the words. Shiro nodded. She smirked, “I like to think I do the same.”

“Oh, you do,” he promised, smirking back. Again, that confidence, the flicker of purple—the commanding ferocity of a Black Paladin.

She eyed the great beast, the creature that had saved the man she loved and who loved her. “With all the travelling we’ve been doing…” she said slowly, “I’ve been feeling rather bored and entrapped in staying on the same planet for several quintants.”

Shiro followed her gaze, and a slow grin spread across his face, “Are you suggesting we take a fifth of the universe’s most powerful weapon out for a joyride?” he asked, deciding he very much liked this adventurous, playful side of Princess Allura, Ruler of Altea, the Lion Goddess, Sacred Alchemist of Oriande.

Allura turned back to him, her expression a very convincing straight-face, but he could feel the impishness at the edge of his mind, “You haven’t piloted the Black Lion in a long time,” she said, “You should probably get a feel for her again—and it’d be better for everyone if that wasn’t in the middle of a fight.”

It was, of course, obvious to everyone that Shiro would be retaking his position as Black Paladin. The Paladins and the Lions themselves could almost _feel_ that decision—Voltron once again how it was meant to be, with Allura not as the Blue Paladin, but as the leader of their team as a whole, working closely with Shiro, commanding them from the Castle of Lions.

And whatever replacement Pidge and Sam Holt dreamt up when they retrieved the plans on Earth.

Shiro decided to push this game of theirs a little further, _Wouldn’t it be more effective if I did that alone?_ he asked, the tone of the thought betraying to her that he was in no way suggesting that; in no way asking her to stay behind and leave him be.

She grinned. _I’ll be there in case something goes wrong. I possess healing magic, remember? And I’m connected to the Lions’ quintessence._

 _I guess that_ does _make you the ideal passenger_ , he admitted, sighing as though he was being hard-done-by. Allura gave him an unimpressed look, which turned into a blush when he kissed her cheek and intertwined their fingers and pulled her towards the Black Lion. It gave an almighty roar, then lowered almost as if bowing to its returned Paladin, opening its mouth to allow him inside.

“ _Princess?_ ” Coran’s voice sounded over Allura’s communicator earrings, “ _What’s going on? Are you still in the Lions’ hangar?_ ”

“I’m fine, Coran, don’t worry,” she replied calmly, “Shiro’s simply taking the Black Lion out to re-establish his bond, and asked me to come along.”

 _More like you invited yourself_ , he smirked, as he sat down in the cockpit. She shot him a dry look.

 _This was my idea_ , she pointed out, _and that sounds a lot better than the complete truth_.

As she continued to speak with Coran—apparently there was something else he’d wanted to talk to her about, to do with the coalition—Shiro re-familiarised himself with Black’s cockpit. It was like coming home to an old friend as he sat down, and the control sticks slid over into his hands. Simply wrapping his fingers around them sent a wave of energy rushing through him. He gasped, and, being psychically linked to both him and the Lion, and in such proximity to them both, Allura gasped as well.

 _By the Ancients…_ she whispered in his mind, quite simply awestruck. _Is that what a true Paladin bond feels like?_

_Pretty much, yeah._

_Incredible…_ The astonishment, near _veneration_ in her ‘voice’ was very, very flattering, and sent a delightful little shiver down his spine. As she realised this, he sensed a small feeling of pride, intrigue and smugness from her end, brushing the edge of his consciousness as if to say, _oh **really?**_

The Lion didn’t speak to him in words—and in some ways, despite being a connection of the spirit, the way Allura felt in his mind and the way Black did was entirely different. He received… _concepts_ from her more than anything. Allura and him could communicate like that if they tried, but the natural response was more like a conversation, with actual words, wrapped up in feelings and, if they put in effort, images and memories.

All the same, it still felt like Black was saying to him, _welcome back, my Paladin_.

Having finished her conversation with Coran, Allura set her communicator earrings to _Emergency Contact Only_ and turned back to Shiro, an expectant expression on her face.

_Are you ready to fly her?_

He grinned, looking out through the Black Lion’s front window. _Born ready_. And he thrust his arms forwards, and the Lion took off. Caught slightly off-guard, Allura stumbled, arms flying out to grab purchase on something— _anything_. She’d intended for the back of the pilot’s chair, instead she got the neck and shoulders of the pilot himself, and effectively hugged him from behind as they hurtled almost directly upwards, faster and higher by the moment, and the rush was such that Shiro couldn’t help a delighted _WHOOP!_ escaping him, and he felt Allura’s pleased laughter in his ears and his mind at the same time, then her lips on his cheek.

The speed, the strength, the _power_. He’d been inside the Black Lion for so long, existing just as a soul, barely connected to the physical world… he’d forgotten what this felt like. How mighty it felt, how invigorating and powerful. He glanced at Allura to grin at her, something roguish and wicked.

And, underneath all his exhilaration, he felt a jolt of intrigued pleasure slip over their minds from her. Clearly, she liked the grin on his face—she liked what the power and confidence of the Black Lion did to him.

He went faster, just because he could, quickly finding a small asteroid field, slipping back into the zone of Paladin and Lion being almost one. They banked and twisted and leapt from one rock to the other, as agile as a real cat. Shiro grinned, feeling more sure of himself and more at home—in the middle of space, sat in the Black Lion’s cockpit, piloting her expertly, Allura’s arms around his shoulders—than he had in four years.

But for some reason, flying like this… it reminded him of his first pilot drill with Adam.

Suddenly, all this fantastical confidence calmed. It was no less powerful, but it muted as the initial intense rush relented. It wasn’t sadness—for the first time in such a long time he actually felt _peace_ when he thought of Adam, knowing he was safe and happy. And now _he_ was safe and happy, too.

_I... I make you feel safe? I make you happy?_

There was amazement in her tone. He’d said he loved her but she still didn’t believe she simply made him happy.

 _More than I have in years_ , he assured her, reaching up to where her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, taking a hand and pressing it to his lips softly. This calm content, he realised, was because of her. Not just her presence but her own gentle pleasure. But there was a spark of curiosity in her mind, and her arms tightened around him ever so slightly.

“You and Adam…” she said softly, then hesitated. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“You can’t pry when it comes to me, Princess.” The title now sounded affectionate; a pet-name, really. _I’m an open book. What do you want to know?_ His thoughts were as warm and earnest as his voice.

“Well… why were you so adamant to go on the Kerberos mission?” she asked, “You were ill... _dying_. You could’ve chosen to spend your last happy years with the man you loved. But instead... you got kidnapped by the Galra.” She spoke hesitantly, unsure if this was safe territory to breach. But he promised her in their linked minds, with Black at his fingertips, her arms around him, the rest of the team safe on Olkari, excited to return home... there was no better time.

“To be fair, I didn’t know that at the time,” he pointed out, a lazy grin crawling up the side of his face as he looked out Black’s windows. “But, if I’m honest… I wanted to explore. I wanted to see as much of the universe as possible before my illness made it impossible for me to do that.” A memory bubbled to the surface of his mind, and he sent it over the strange little bond they had as if offering it.

_That’s the Calypso. The first ship to carry astronauts to the moons of Jupiter._

_It took ‘em three years to get there. Longest voyage of its kind._

_Heh-heh, that’s right! Y’know, reading about that mission is what made me wanna be a pilot. Those astronauts braved the unknown._

“I wanted to see the stars…” he breathed, his words soft and awestruck as he looked out of the Lion’s window, to the vast expanse of space before them. He turned to her and smiled, “And I’m so glad I did. Being the Black Paladin…” It was more than he’d ever dared dream. Seeing as much of the universe as there was to see. Fantastical planets and incredible aliens, every star from every angle, blackholes and wormholes and alternate realities. Technology so advanced it was practically magic. _Real_ magic.

Allura.

“…I know what you mean when you say a Lion chooses their Paladin,” he finished, “It…” Words could not describe how much he loved the role, how perfectly he felt it fit him. Like he was literally born for it—and maybe, in a way, he was.

She smiled at him. _I’m glad. Also, it would be slightly awful if you_ didn’t _like being the Black Paladin._ Unwittingly, her mind turned to Keith. Shiro looked at her, and she flushed.

“He’s an excellent Paladin,” she said quickly, “But… his temperament is much better suited to the Red Lion. This team is a family, Keith included, but…” She swallowed, “He’s not as good a leader as you are.”

“I know,” Shiro said gently, “And I know _he_ knows, too. I think…” he said slowly, “I think I might’ve made a mistake when I asked Keith to be Black Paladin.”

Allura stared at him, “You do?” she asked, “But he’s your brother.”

“He is,” Shiro agreed, “I love him more than pretty much anyone else. But I think that might’ve made me blind. He’s a hell of a warrior, and in a fight, he’s a big contender, but… he’s not really a leader.” He paused, “I could see… _bits_ when I was inside Black. You guys all trust each other so much, and you’re one hell of a team, I’m almost loath to break it up.” He cracked a roguish smile which made her roll her eyes,

“You were part of the team long before I was,” she told him, and he shrugged,

“Not that long,” he said, “But I could see flashes when I was in Black. And Keith… he tried so hard, I know he did. But he went to Blade of Marmora at his first chance—gave the Black Lion back to ‘me’. He wants to be a follower, not a leader. I thought…” he swallowed, “I thought that would make him a good leader, and it kind of did—I knew he wouldn’t abuse his authority—but… he just wasn’t meant for that role.” He turned to her, “You are, though.”

Allura stared at him.

 _You think_ I _should’ve been the Black Paladin?_ Her incredulity leaked across to him without the slightest attempt to suppress it.

_Is that so outrageous? You were raised to be a Queen one day, you led the team as a whole—still do. You lead the Voltron Coalition. Who better?_

_You._ The answer was simple and soft. _Always you._

And the Black Lion thrummed beneath them in agreement. Allura felt a rush of pleasure; that the mighty beast had agreed that Shiro was the best fit, and that she had agreed with Shiro that she—Allura—would have made an excellent substitute, and even a Black Paladin in her own right, even if she was not Black’s True Paladin.

As a child, she had dreamt of piloting a Lion—and that dream had come to fruition—but most of all she had dreamt of being the _Black_ Paladin. The decisive head, the passionate heart. A born leader with a strong-willed determination and the charisma to inspire not only respect but _hope_. Zarkon had done that to his Galra. Before that, her father. Shiro had done it to them.

 _You do it, too, Allura. You’re the one who inspired us to become Paladins, to become the New Age Voltron_.

_Perhaps. But it wasn’t my soul the Black Lion chose to save._

_She trusted you enough to take it, though. To make me whole again._

He meant it as a soul with a body; a full human once more. Maybe he’d even meant it as bringing him back to his family. But as the though slipped across this peculiar bond of theirs, he realised it went deeper than that. As deep as his heart. She might’ve been the heart of Voltron, and he the head—neither denied this remotely—but he was as much her head as she was his heart, too. They balanced each other so perfectly; as co-leaders must. _As... lovers must?_ he dared to hope, privately.

She didn’t remember actually leaning in, but the next thing she knew, she was kissing him again. Almost nervously, as though they were running out of time—but then, they were done taking things slow. She’d wanted him for so long, she could hardly believe she had him.

Walking around his chair so she was stood beside him rather than behind—it was less troublesome for his neck, this way—she put her hands on his neck and cupped his face to keep his lips pressed against hers. His hands went to her waist, pulling her until she was sat atop him. The seat was plenty wide enough for her to straddle him, and they made full use of that.

He chuckled, gazing up at her in the purple light of the Lion. It was better lit than when Keith had piloted it—now that the original line-up had been restored, and every Paladin was back with their matched Lion, the quintessence that surged through them was back at its stronger capacity. All the same, her markings glowed so brightly they stood out on her cheeks, and he could _just_ make out faint glows underneath her uniform. She’d clearly been encouraging his return to being Black Paladin, Keith to Red and Lance to Blue, because she’d donned not her armour, but her flight suit.

At his laughter, she raised an eyebrow.

_What’s so funny?_

_Nothing. Just… you’re beautiful. I can’t actually believe this. I’m here. With you._

She flushed, her marks pulsing bubblegum pink.

 _I can’t quite believe this either._ For a number of reasons. First, she’d doubted he felt the same, then they’d been preoccupied with their mission and professionalism. After he’d gone missing, she’d thought him dead, and when he’d ‘returned’ she’d found herself awkward around him like never before—little had she known that it hadn’t _been_ Shiro at the time. Her confusion and, yes, her hurt, had pushed her towards Lotor, made her blind to his true intentions.

But now Shiro was back, and everything felt right again.

_I guess it’s a good thing this bond popped up. We might’ve never said anything otherwise._

_Technically, we_ didn’t _say anything. We thought it._

He rolled his eyes at her poor joke, but they were both grinning, and she leant down to kiss him again. Reaching up, he pulled her hair free of its bun, letting her thick white curls fall around them, carding his finger through the silky-soft ringlets. She brushed back his ‘floof’ as the other Paladins had taken to calling it, planting a kiss on his forehead before ducking lower to capture his lips again.

 _I have his memories_ , he told her, speaking as much with his thoughts as he did with his eyes. He was exceptional at closing himself off; presenting a strong, collected, determined front, but he had such expressive eyes. Soft and earnest. _The other me. Kuron. He felt so scared and confused… With you, it was less. He felt safest around you._

 _He did?_ She raised her eyebrows, slightly surprised, but he felt her flattery underneath it. _Why? Haggar was controlling him, I was the only creature capable of besting her magic._

_But he was meant to be me. With my feelings, my memories—sort of. So he loved you like I did. Like I do._

The mental equivalent of a fluttery, delight sigh rushed through his mind from her end, and he felt a wave of affection like a summer tide lapping gently at his feet. _I love hearing you say that, Takashi…_ Her thought was soft and fuzzy with bliss.

_That I love you? That you’re my saiai?_

_Your what?_

_It’s Japanese. It means ‘beloved’._

A tinkle like bells; her laugh. _On Altea, calling someone your beloved is quite a step._

 _Good_. His tone was half possessive-determination that sent devilish feelings through her body and wicked thoughts through her head; and half humorous cheek that made her want to giggle and hug him tight from sheer adoration. _We’re way behind, we have some catching up to do. And it’s true, anyway._

 _That we do, saiai._ She paused, thoughtful, _I like the sentiment, but I prefer your name. You’re my saiai, Takashi._

She heard his chuckle in her mind, and the echo of the thrill it sent through him, too. Entirely her own, a bubble of happiness flooded through her.

_What’s the Altean word?_

_What?_

_For beloved._

_Oh…_ She flushed again. He loved when she did, and, hearing this in her head, she unwittingly flushed deeper. _Aniylion_.

 _Aniylion_. He tested the word in his thoughts, then his mouth, “Aniylion…” He smiled up at her, “I like it.” The smile became a grin, “I think I like your name better, too, though, _Allura_.” He emphasised her name and delighted in how she squirmed atop him.

_Now you know what it’s like when you call me ‘Takashi’._

_Oh, I’d beg to differ_ , she smirked, _The others call me Allura. But they all call you Shiro. Even Keith._

_What can I say? It stuck. And anyway, Pidge’s real name is Katie. Only Sam calls her that. Takashi is much more private._

_Secret?_ she suggested, then, with a grin, _intimate?_

From the look on his face, she decided there and then that these little moments of theirs; time for just the two of them as saiai and aniylion, would be a time for ‘Takashi’ and ‘Allura’, not for ‘Shiro’ and ‘Princess’. From the want that flickered in his eyes, and his eager grin, he was in agreement, and she saw a flash of that Black Paladin power and confidence again.

 _Oh?_ His tone was half teasing, half hopeful. _There’ll be more moments like this?_ Of the pair of them, so calm and quiet and close. A blessed reprieve from the hectic mess that was the majority of their lives—epic for a story, exhausting for an existence? And with each other, no less.

 _I certainly hope so_ , she answered.

It was becoming increasingly natural for the pair of them to speak through this tenuous link across their minds. maybe out of necessity for how intimate it was—by _design_ —they’d adapted to it very quickly. It helped that they already trusted each other utterly.

_I trust you to fight by my side._

_I trust you to obey my orders._

_I trust you to lead me well._

_I trust you to let me fight my own battles._

_I trust you to protect and save me when I can’t do it alone._

Who said these, and who replied, did it matter? They both felt and agreed so deeply, it might’ve come from the Black Lion for all they knew. Allura was caught, however, something familiar twitching at the back of her mind. Then,

 _By the Ancients..._ She leant back abruptly and stared straight ahead, tears suddenly shining in her eyes.

“What?” Shiro said, looking panicked, “What is it? Are you okay?”

“My...” she murmured, “Those...” She looked around at the Lion, astounded and awestruck, “How would _you_ know those words?”

The Lion rumbled. Not a reply with words—never something so basic—but not the normal ‘feelings’ or ‘concepts’, either.

“What is it?” Shiro repeated more gently, telling from Allura’s mind that she was surprised but not distressed—if anything, she was touched.

She looked down at him, “I don’t know if you... if Earth does things the same way on Altea,” she said, “But when two Alteans give their hearts to one another, there’s a ceremony—a party, friends are invited to stand witness, the two hearts give words to one another—”

“A wedding,” Shiro said, offering the concept across their mental bond. Allura nodded; that was more or less what she meant. “You say vows?” he paused, and even without their link he could’ve guessed, “Are those Altean vows?”

“Those were my parents’ vows,” she replied. “My father was the Red Paladin, and my mother was a fearsome warrior in her own right. They fought many battles together before and after my father became a Paladin.” Tears still shone in her eyes. “I’d... I’d thought I forgotten those words.”

“They’re beautiful words,” he said, then in his mind, _Did they come from you or the Lion?_

_I honestly don’t know. But I meant them if I did._

_I’d mean them, too._ He grinned up at her, _I’ve upheld those vows already, we both have._

She grinned at him, _That was only the first half_ , she told him, _there were battle vows, then lovers’ vows, too, but those are much more easily remembered._

 _Oh yeah?_ She could feel the curls of his intrigue in her mind—as a human, he didn’t know what Altean lovers’ pledges were.

_Lets see..._

_I swear to treasure your heart. I swear to respect your mind._

_I swear to shield your body. I swear to worship your soul._

_My heart is yours to love. My mind is yours to learn._

_My body is yours to hold. My soul is yours to share._

_Sweet_ , he remarked in her mind. _Not unlike some Earth vows._

 _Maybe that will become useful one day..._ Allura thought to herself, not _quite_ ready to admit that to him. It was a feat of incredible control that the thought didn’t leak across their link, given their proximity, but she reckoned that the physical proximity was less important than the emotional and, shall we say, ~ _physical_ ~ proximity.

Speaking of which...

“You know...” she said aloud, her voice something of a purr, and she ducked down to press their foreheads together. “We _do_ still have some time before the others would expect us back on Olkari...”

He tilted his head up to nudge her with his nose, a slow grin crawling across his face, “We do...” he agreed in a husky voice, “And I’m a lot less tired than I was that night.”

“Oh, really?” she leant in closer, wrapping her arms around his neck again and scooching right up against him in the pilot’s chair.

 _Doing_ this _... in the Black Lion?_ There was an undeniable element of thrill and desire in her thought as she gave him this, _It’s a little..._ naughty _, don’t you think?_

 _I’m okay with it if you are_ , he replied, because maybe the first time they did this should be a little... grander? More proper? But honestly, the Black Lion meant so much to them, and they were here, and they’d already waited so long, and it really _would_ be quite fun...

He sensed her hesitation and pushed a wave of reassurance at her, _I don’t mind, I really don’t, we can—_ Though he wasn’t actually speaking with his mouth, her abrupt, heated kiss still cut him off as effectively as if he had been.

She broke away after a moment, leaving him flushed and literally gasping, and stared at him with her impossibly blue eyes, so very alien and so very beautiful that he could quite happily lose himself in them. Her gaze was deep and intense and she didn’t move her mouth as she poured all the desire and confidence and assurance into her ‘words’ as she said,

_I want to. I want this._

_I want **you**._

Because he was right—they’d waited so long and survived so much and for the first time they were in a place that was safe and calm, and they were alive and _happy_ and...

And because she’d wanted him for longer than she’d even dared admit. And so had he. And they were both _so. tired._ of waiting.

He kissed her. He kissed her like she was the air he breathed, the very thing that gave him life—and she was. It was desperate and ravaging, a fire through the trees; it was pleading and greedy, the turbulent ocean; it was adoring and awed, the sky and every last one of its twinkling stars. Her wrapped his arms around her so tight she thought she might break, but it would have been such a sublime pleasure to come apart in his arms, to have him hold every piece with his gentle hands, touch reverent and careful, she would have gladly succumbed.

And she did. She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, cradling the base of his skull, the other pressed over his heart, and she could feel his heartbeat, strong and sure and alive.

 _Because of you_.

He’d said that before, and by God and the Ancients and whoever else, he would say it again. _I’m here because of you, I’m alive because of you._ And if he could spend every moment of the rest of his life kissing her and holding her and worshipping her it would not be nearly enough to show how much he loved her; how grateful he was to her.

_Don’t be grateful. You owe me nothing. We’ve saved each other so many times, it hardly counts._

_I want to be._ There was no obligation, here. Just love. Pure and simple.

And Allura, well, how could she accept such things? From this fierce warrior, this great man with his good heart? From her saviour and her teammate and her co-leader and now, it seemed, her lover? It would be taking far too much, and all she had to give was her heart.

_Your heart is more than enough. More than I dreamed._

_Likewise_ , she replied, ducking her head to press a kiss to the pale, scarred flesh, and she felt his pulse beneath her lips. _Your heart is mine to treasure, as mine is yours to love._ Reaching up to kiss his lips, she added, _Your mind is mine to respect, as mine is yours to learn._

He seemed to then get the gist of it, because—surprising her when he did—he squeezed her tight again, laughing, and lifted her right up; standing and setting her down on the console, so he was stood between her legs. Grinning and laughing outwardly, he said, _Your body is mind to shield, as mine is yours to hold_.

She raised a hand to cup his jaw, _Your soul is mine to worship_.

He caught the hand with his wrist, and turned his head to kiss her palm. _As mine is yours to share._

Oddly tender for what they were about to do—she could feel his arousal on the inside of her thigh—idly she wondered _just how many_ similarities there were between Alteans and humans. The notion that this was going to be a straight-faced, serious affair was a ridiculous one.

 _Yeah, there’s gonna be anatomy questions, huh?_ He remarked, amusement sparkling in his eyes. She couldn’t stop a blurt of laughter escaping her mouth, and she had to wrap her legs around his hips to stop herself falling backwards, unwittingly tugging him closer towards her. She felt his hips meet hers and suddenly the laughter died, and she gazed up at him.

 _Oh._ Her eyes were wide. It’d been quite a while since she’d felt something like _that_ , coiling deep in her belly. Maybe it was the way he looked at her; strong and powerful, desire burning in his eyes but still so gentle and kind, utterly beautiful. Maybe it was how he felt, fitting so well against her, in her arms and legs and maybe—probably—more.

He grinned, something cocky and edged in danger. It sent another thrill through her. _Oh?_ he parodied her tone.

She smirked up at him, but it turned into a smile because he was too cute not to smile at. _Oh_ , she agreed firmly, reaching up to pull him down in another kiss. She moved her hips as instinct bade her too, and Shiro's breath caught in his throat, shuddering and scattered, his fingers digging into her flesh eagerly, somehow both pushing her away nd pulling her closer.

No distractions this time. There was certainly an element of ‘thrill’ to it all. A place where they _maybe_ shouldn’t have been, an activity that they _maybe_ shouldn’t be doing... It was all very mischievous, in the best way possible. She guided him with her mind to the tiny, fiddly zipper at her collar, and he tugged it down several inches, revealing her collar and the tops of her breasts before she went for his vest, shoving it off his shoulders and pulling it away, leaving him in the form-fitting, long-sleeves shirt he always wore. Maybe he did it to show off, because it left almost nothing to the imagination, fitting tight against every curve and muscle. She decided then and there she would like to trace each one of them with her hands, her lips, her tongue.

 _Please, do_ , he said, sounding more keening and desperate than he’d intended, but she loved it.

Her kiss was ravenous, a thirsting man in the desert, as she came up to his limps again and strove to absolutely _devour_ him. She held his face in her hands, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs in a strange juxtaposition of gentleness compared to her hot and heavy desire of her lips against his, her hips grinding against his, pressing her body flush against him, saying with her actions and mind and soul to simply _take me. Want me as I want you._

He responded with every ounce of heat she gave, his hands firm on her hips, pulling them against his. _Since the day I met you_ , he promised her, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and biting it lightly. She gasped, intrigued and surprised, and melted into him.

 _We don’t do that on Altea_ , she told him, _by the Ancients, I’m glad you do on Earth_. His hands went to the zipper of her flight suit again. He pulled it lower, and he saw that she had Altean markings on her collarbones, the top of her sternum, and curling around her navel, presumably going lower. It was like an arrow directing him to his most delightful prize.

His mind contains not words, but pure feelings, and all she felt was a wave of utter desire, want, this primal _need_ to take her and hold her and kiss her and do things to her until his name was the only word she knew.

 _Oh my... Takashi..._ She wanted to be playful in her desire, but it came out as desperately sincere. The thought was pulsing and writhing; wanton. Her ‘saying’ his name _did things_ to him he didn’t realise were possible. Alien princess or no...

 _I think I’d quite like to hear you scream that name_. The thought leaked across almost by accident, and for a moment he froze, wondering if he’d gone too far, but she smirked up at him, fully caught up in the power of this place, the want they felt, the irritation at having already waited so long.

 _I think I’d like to have you make me_ , she answered, with a challenging glitter in her eye, the spark of a warrior and a leader and right now the most beautiful creature he’d ever had the good fortune to behold. She slipped her hand down the front of his pants and took hold of him, coaxing him to full attention, and he buried his face into the crook of her shoulder, gasping and clutching at her shoulders.

 _Allura..._ he begged her, and she pulled away, making him whine aloud, a pitiful, reproachful noise. She smirked at him, taking his chin to force him to look at her, and she met his eyes calmly as she slowly pulled her hands out of the sleeves of the flight suit, leaving her top half entirely exposed to him, and he stared. There were more markings—crescent shapes like on her cheeks, flanking each nipple like her eyes—and they glowed with a delighted thrill. She stared up at him, half a plea, half a challenge.

He bent down and kissed her again, his hands, at first hesitant, coming up to touch her bare skin, high on her waist, then climbing higher, stroking over the soft flesh, then chancing a squeeze—did Altean females have the same erogenous zones as human females? Judging by her sound of approval, the way her thoughts turned to little starbursts, the first tiny fireworks in a grand show, they did.

She raised her hands to cup his face again, pulling him down to kiss her. Now that he was stood, she was looking up rather than down, as she had been on the chair. She loved how strong and powerful he looked, truly a Paladin— _her_ Paladin.

 _Your Paladin..._ His thoughts were a contended purr—half-lion themselves—in her head, _I like the sound of that._ Once again, the thought of her screaming his name came to mind, and he pulled her hips towards him, brushing himself against her again, and even between the thick materials of their clothing, it made her choke on a gasp.

Before she could formulate a reply, he wrapped his arms around her now-bare top half and pulled her towards him, lifting her clean off the ground, going to the wall, and pressing her against it, only his body flush against hers keeping her upright. Blushing and impatient, she scrabbled at the hem of his shirt and bade him to remove it. Languorously, he reached behind himself and pulled it off by the back of the neck, swiftly revealing an expanse of pale skin, smooth interrupted by harsh, rough scars. Again she felt that twinge of uncertainty; he wasn’t used to feeling desirable. It was so long since anyone had seen him that way. He was damaged—now more than ever.

 _Never and never and never_ , she told him, clutching the sides and back of his neck partly to force him to look at her and partly to make sure she didn’t fall—but with his strong form around her she was confident she was safe. _You are beautiful and wanted—not just by me. You_ are _desired._

He maybe found that a little difficult to believe, but at least back on Earth, when he’d had both arms, black hair, and no scars, he’d known himself to be good-looking—why else would men and women have fawned as they had? He’d just assumed that when he’d been captured...

 _I don’t care about all them_ , he told her. _You’re enough—more than enough. More than I dreamed._

 _Not a dream_ , she told him, thinking of those words from earlier, that the Black Lion had offered from the depths of her mind. _A memory, if anything._ She kissed him again, and this was calmer than before, something sweet and reassuring and reverent. Her Paladin, brave and beautiful, somehow having been through so much, and still so naïve in places. How patchwork we all are, she thought, how deep in some ways and shallow and unaware in others. But no matter. She would show him until he believed it that he was desirable, and then she would keep showing him. His sharp mind, his strong body, his gentle soul, how could anyone _not_ want him?

She heard a chuckle in her head. _I don’t care about all them_ , he said again. _Only you._ The princess he fought to protect, the warrior who’d given her freedom and almost her life to protect _him_ , his partner in leading Voltron, and easily the most beautiful, kind, determined, _wonderful_ woman he’d ever known.

These thoughts of adoration, mingling with mounting, heady desire, drove them as wild as each other, and maybe being in the Black Lion helped that. He was by nature more commanding, fiercer, in this great beast. But even here, he was still unbelievably gentle.

They went back to the Pilot’s seat for sake of ease, and she straddled his thighs and asked again _Are you sure?_ Not because there was any doubt of their conviction, but it was still so... _strange_ her.

 _It’s you_ , he said. _Anywhere will be perfect._

She flushed and he kissed her again, pushing the zipper of her flight suit down even more, and making a keening noise when she pulled away—even if it was just to stand and peel it off entirely.

He gaped at her in the purple-black lighting of the cockpit. Save for underwear, she was entirely nude, and yet still somehow commanded all her regal majesty of a princess, all her fierce conviction of a warrior. She was easily as beautiful as a goddess, and her Altean markings swirled around her hips and the sides of her thighs, and a tiny chevron, almost like a Voltron ‘V’ sat daintily just above the hem of her panties, like an arrow.

He was so amazed, even his thoughts went quiet, and al he could communicate to her was the sheer incredulity of her. His own fortune, her most amazing generosity. She giggled and brushed it aside, pulling him upright by the belt and watching as he followed suit, and he was left only in his boxers—notably tenting—and they looked at one another.

A mental conversation involving images he considered unflattering-at-best and knowledge he hadn’t had to think about since high school biology left Shiro feeling slightly mortified—and judging by how jagged and lumpy Allura’s own thoughts were in his head, she felt the same. But they could laugh about it at least, and confirmed fairly quickly that human and Altean biology—at least here—was _more or less_ the same.

 _Human females cycle every phoeb?_ That thought hadn’t been at the front of his mind—how had she found that? But then, she was Altean, and could manipulate quintessence better than pretty much anyone. She was probably far more skilled at this mind thing than he was. _Curious. And a shame. Altean cycles are every decaphoeb_.

_Are you...?_

_No. Not for a while_.

Well, that was one less thing to worry about—in all likelihood, Alteans and humans probably _couldn’t_ interbreed, but even if they could, that wasn’t the sort of thing they were interested _just now_.

Another shy, slightly nervous giggle, had Allura straddling him again, their kisses slow and tender—why rush? They had all the time in the universe out here. They ran their hands over each other, tracing scars and markings and idle lines, committing each plane and edge to memory.

It was a mutual agreement when he dared to breach, _Now? Is this okay?_ And the last scraps of clothing were pulled away. She breathed into his ear shakily.

 _Don’t tease me, Takashi..._ she whined. _Don’t make me beg._

He grinned into the side of her neck, filing that for later consideration. But there was little to be said and done when they were already so desperate, and he could feel how wet she was, and it _did_ things to him just like his name in her thoughts. She raised her hips, and looking him dead in the eye, went down slowly, and they stared at one another numbly, unable to even form thoughts, as she slowly settled atop him.

 _Oh—God—oh, my—FUCK._ That was about all that escaped his mind, and she might’ve giggled or blushed if her own thoughts weren’t basically identical.

 _You okay?_ If thoughts could be breathless, hers were, and he managed only a nod and a mumble, his fingers digging into her hips as they adjusted to one another. It wasn’t... _quite_ like with a human, he decided. It was almost... tingly. Like tiny sparks of quintessence. Was that Alteans or simply Allura? He wasn’t sure. It was nice, though. _Really_ nice.

“Never fucking better...” he groaned, tipping his head back, then leaning forwards, wrapping his arms tight around her, and moving his hips up.

Her reaction was instantaneous; she clung to him, hands clutching his shoulder and the back of his neck, moving to match him, grinding down on his lap, her breaths coming in short, heavy pants. He breathed shallow, laboured breaths into her collar, one hand moving to grip her flank, guiding her hips, the other pressed flat against her back. Their minds were a tangled mess of sensations and vague pleas to _keep going don’t stop oh god don’t stop_ so close it was almost impossible to tell their individual thoughts apart.

“Takashi...” Allura whined, breathless, “Please, I—I don’t—I _can’t_...” It’d been so long since she’d felt anything like this, and so many times she’d believed she never would again. Both the emotion and the physicality... it was too much and at the same time _not enough_ and she couldn’t speak, couldn’t explain, couldn’t _think_ —

“Allura.” Shiro brought his hand up from her back to touch the side of her neck, an oddly tender gesture amongst all this heat. He gazed up at her, eyes full of desire but also love, smouldering like a blazing fire; untameable, so like this beast he commanded. _Saiai_ , he said, inside of their minds, oddly cognizant, and she could feel how surprised he was that he could do this. Using the mental images she had offered earlier, his hand went down, and the found the little nub, thumbing over it lightly. _Allura_ , he said again.

Maybe it was the little burst of quintessence that came with his thoughts, maybe his hand _right there_ , but it was the last push she needed, and a supernova exploded inside of her mind. Barely a moment later, he followed too, her name a drawn out moan. For one brief, shining moment, they were still and perfect and her markings glowed brighter than the stars. For one moment; then they went limp in each other’s arms, spent and panting, their thoughts and world soft and fuzzy and calm.

With a strength and conviction that surprised them both, Shiro guided Allura’s legs so she was sat across his lap, her head cradled against his shoulder, and they sat there, thoughts so scattered they couldn’t hear one another, despite how gapingly open their minds were.

For a long while, they were quiet and content simply by being near each other, in this peaceful moment so hardly won. Shiro didn’t question it; didn’t let himself. He had earned this—they both had.

“If this is a new body...” he said slowly, “Does that mean I just lost my virginity to you?”

Allura rose her head to blink at him, confused, “Lost your... what?”

“Oh... um... Earth thing,” he replied, sending her a mental concept over the link—it was easier here than it had ever been to communicate, the closeness—in both senses—aiding the flow.

“Ah,” she murmured, understanding, then frowned, “A strange thing to marker. But... sweet, too, in a way.” She turned to grin at him, “Does that make me special? To you?”

He chuckled. _You were always special,_ especially _to me._ He loved seeing her blush—and of course she heard that thought, too, which only made her blush harder. The markings swirling across her dark skin pulsated, glowing a radiant pink.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling her ear, making her giggle. “And you were my first. Sort of.” In the back of his mind, he wondered if she would be his last, too. Matt’s words about Adam fluttered in his head. Adam had moved on; was happy. Maybe _he_ could be happy, too.

And Allura was—just as Keith, though in a _very_ different manner—key to that, he was sure. He stroked a hand across her thigh, and he could feel by touch the marking over her hip—it was smoother than her already-very-smooth skin, more like silk, really, and slightly cooler to the touch.

“They say an Altean’s markings are their life etched across their skin,” she said, “Their destiny, their very soul.” She paused, “Any scars one might acquire are additions made by the Ancients.” She swiped her thumb across the scar on the bridge of his nose. _This is an life-mark if I ever saw one._

_I’m not Altean, though._

_Really? The amount of quintessence you channel? More than any Black Paladin would normally? Your soul inside of the Lion? Inside of me? I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a_ little _Altean, now_. She could just picture his cheek markings; little crescents, the deepest, darkest indigo, flanking his eyes. Pointed ears—she didn’t like human ears, much, but Shiro’s were unique in that she found them quite cute.

 _Cute, huh?_ He scrunched up his nose and with an expression that suggested considerable mental effort managed to _wiggle_ them. Allura gave a squeal—part disgust, part delighted curiosity.

“Allura—” he began as she clambered over him to grab his ears and tug, “Allura, it’s just a tri— _ow!_ ”

“Sorry!” she yelped, immediately letting go and stuffing her hands in her lap, “Sorry, sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he laughed, rubbing his ear with his prosthetic hand and curling his flesh one around her hips, pulling her close to him again. “It’s just a trick—not many humans can move their ears, it’s just a joke. You liked it?”

“In a disgustedly-fascinated sort of way, yes...” she admitted, vaguely amused. She raised a hand to lightly trace the edge of his round ear, her expression calm and inquisitive. “Alteans and humans are quite similar—on the surface, at least. The smallest differences seem so huge for that.”

 _I know what you mean._ Allura was beautiful by human standards and almost certainly by Altean standards, too. But all the same there was something about her beauty that was inhuman—which made sense, of course. Maybe it was the ears, the markings, the strange pupils, but something about her as a whole, her very _essence_ was ethereal and, well... _Like a goddess..._

She blinked, stunned and deeply, _deeply_ flattered.

_I’m no goddess..._

_You brought me back from the dead. That’s pretty goddess-like_ , he teased, tugging on her pointed ear and then cradling the back of her neck with his hand, tangling his fingers in her thick hair and pulling her down for a sweet kiss.

“Y’know,” he then said, nuzzling her neck, “My bond with Black might not be fully re-established.”

She turned to him, eyebrow raised, “Oh?”

Oh, he replied in their minds, _I might need another one of these sessions... Just in case there are any problems we haven't seen yet._

 _I see…_ A smirk curled her lip and her thoughts, _And I suppose you’d be wanting me here ‘just in case’, too?_

 _Just in case_ , he agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so the first part of this was heavily, _heavily_ inspired by **janestrider** 's really cool post on Tumblr for Kuron Week 2018, check it out here because it's super awesome: **https://janestrider.tumblr.com/post/177752474117/kuron-week-day-3-believesuspect-video-deleted**
> 
> I tried to work in each of the Shallura Week Prompts in but for the life of me, Day 7: Legendary/Coronation just wasn't flowing so don't expect that one or nothing.
> 
> Ngl, season 7 could've been better. It had some good stuff but my main beef was that because Keith is weirdly overpowered now Shiro didn't get to be Black Paladin anymore, which meant he piloted the Atlas instead of Black and Allura piloted Blue instead of the Atlas. T-T my babies deserved better. Also even though I didn't ship it I was excited to see Adam on Earth with like a new beau or something, not killed off-screen with only 3 lines and a Bury Your Gays trope to his Vine-based name. Season 6 was where it was **_at_** , babes.


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